There is nothing like a good breakfast to kick start the day. Especially when it’s been another largely sleepless night. Today it was going to be cornflakes and flaxseed with a thick topping of fruit. No fresh fruit was available this week from the store so I opted for tinned fruit. Tropical Fruit Salad in juice. That will do nicely.
The reality was somewhat different.
As I poured the fruit over my cereal my brain tried to reboot from its reduced power standby mode. This doesn’t look right. Then the penny finally dropped just after tin was emptied. . Why was I tipping tinned baby carrots over my cornflakes.
Waste not want not. Wow that’s a taste sensation. 🥺🥺🥺🥺
Since I’ve been a parent watching my son go through the school system I have heard many things. Many things from those in charge of our school system. I’ve heard things like
The school day is too short
The children get too many holidays
We need to test and test again from as early as 5 years old
Schools failnot because of the system but because of poor classroom discipline
We need to bring back Victorian school values
Time off for bereavement is just an extended holiday for kids
Learning has to be about the needs of the economy
Teaching materials need to be carefully controlled so that pupils learn the right things
Smaller class sizes are overrated
Pupils taking a stand on climate change is really just an excuse to miss lessons
The school lunch break is too long
Pupils get too many breaks during the school day
Not enough children are taking part in after school learning activities
Not enough homework is issued
Ok you get the picture. Now ok I understand some parents will agree with those above statements but not me. I wouldn’t let this bunch of charlatans pretending to be a Government run a bath never mind our children’s schools.
But here’s the key thing. I’m hearing discipline, testing, work pupils harder…. One word I don’t hear is
What happened to childhood being the happiest time of our life’s.
Another word I don’t hear is
What happened to childhood being about dreaming and playing.
Another word I don’t hear is
What happened to childhood being about dreaming and learning to think big.
Maybe that’s why we have such a huge mental health crisis amongst our young. Too much pressure. The world is changing rapidly so to me the last thing we need as a society is forcing our children through a factory school based system. Factory Education Farming based on values from over 100 years ago. It’s time to free up our schools. Let’s make schooling FUN again.
The school gates close for just under seven weeks and Hawklad wanted a celebratory car ride. To mark his freedom from school work, exams and having to get up before midday (😂😂) he came up with his own music playlist for the car ride.
So here’s Hawklads End of School playlist.
He had to sneak one song in just to wind up his old Dad….. But I will settle for 15 out of 16 good ones. So in the words of the Mr Alice Cooper
Hawklad was taking his science revision really seriously. We were in the garden playing football. Actually I was trying to show off. Trying to show Hawklad that I could curl a free kick around the sundial and nestle the ball into the top corner. All with my left peg.
Sadly I am no Messi.
The ball screamed into the farmers field. Like an Exocet missile it landed perfectly into a new and very deep cowpat. I jumped over the fence again landing perfectly into an even bigger cow gift. I wasn’t picking that ball up so I decided kick it. Have you ever kicked a cowpat. It explodes…… I was covered. It even went up my nose. Up my pigging nose. That’s emasculating.
The smell taking me back to days living near a sewage treatment facility. All very Nose-talgic……
Guess who has been baking again. Yes NORAD have raised the threat level to DEFCON THREE.
Years ago I worked in a Police Force as a civilian. I was based at an old country mansion which acted at the Police Headquarters. At the front desk there was a sign on the wall saying THREAT LEVEL. It had a slide in colour board. Usually it was Green (it’s all cool dude), sometimes yellow (it’s not so cool but no need to panic dude) and rarely Red (it’s time to assume the crash position dude). We also had white which meant ‘everything was cool, but the government audit team is in so put on a tie, dude’. One day the threat level went brown. No one had a clue what that meant. Even granite chiselled veterans had never seen that colour in decades of work here. Much confusion and speculation ensued. The receptionist was not there so we couldn’t ask her. She was like Thor’s Heimdall. The Gatekeeper. No one got in or out without her approval during the day. She also maintained the threat level board.
Finally she was located. Apparently Threat Level BROWN was ‘she had put the board in back to front’. If just one of us muppets had bothered to look on the other side of the board we would have found that it was in fact GREEN…..
And yes DEFCON THREE was wrong. Apart from the earthquake cracked crust it was a rather fine gluten and dairy free loaf. Time to lower the threat level.
Lack of sleep does strange things to the mind and body. It took me 30 minutes into a yoga session before that the odd sensation I was experiencing was attributed to me putting on my compression shorts back to front. If only it stopped there.
I decided I needed a milky and sweet coffee to get me going. The sugar is next to the kettle. So what sleep induced madness sent me to the cupboard. Made me reach out and grab a large bag. Open that bag. Carefully add two spoonfuls of the white powder into my drink. Then stir and stir. Rather puzzled at the enfolding congealed mess. Then taste what was clearly something approaching wallpaper paste.
Only a lack of sleep ends with self raising flour being added to coffee.
While I was rummaging around the loft I came across a box from mums old house. Inside I found all sorts of things. Decades old bus timetables, shopping lists, out of date vouchers, instructions from long lost video recorders, random keys and coins from long defunct foreign currencies. My mum had a philosophy – you never know when you might need this. Actually the answer was invariably – NEVER.
But as I still have the box I must clearly have signed up to mums philosophy. But I did find and one of my old school reports. All pretty boring apart from the Home Economics page. I quote
“He shows some talent in cooking. He has mastered a number of baking recipes. He has produced some very good bread loafs and cakes.”
Parenting is usually long spells of embarrassment interspersed with the occasional chance for the parent to shine. In my case very very occasional shines. But when they come, it’s such a sweet smell of awesomeness.
Now in an ideal world the awesomeness is when mum or dad breaks a sporting record, climbs Everest or manages to discover a new chemical element or wins The Great British Bake Off.
But in my case I will gratefully take any win.
Hawklad was doing a Pokemon Quiz on TV and getting every answer correct. Doing better than the contestants on TV. I sat there quietly. Then it was my moment.
A question the contestants were struggling with. A question Hawklad had clearly got wrong. Muppet Dad stepped in….
“I think you will find that is in fact a Poliwhirl as you will notice the direction of the swirl on its tummy. It is reversed in it’s pretty evolution state…..”
Staggeringly Dad was right. Where did that come from. Clearly too many Pokemon shows playing in the background have secretly seeped into my brain through subconscious learning. But for a few glorious moments I basked in the rays of success. All too short lived as in the next minute I had managed to miss my mouth while drinking tomato soup. Basking in manga success doesn’t work so well in a soup covered white T-shirt.
A few weeks back I was in the loft trying to find some old papers. In a corner I found the old bread maker neatly packed away in its old box. No papers but I did decide to bake some bread.
So a few days later I bought the gluten free bread ingredients and went back into the loft for the machine. Wow it was heavy. So I opened the box. Pants…..
Ok, no it wasn’t full with pairs of my big pink pants. But no bread making machine. A box full of papers. The papers I was trying to find. My plans had gone a RYE. Homemade bread was now TOAST. What was I thinking about, I’m BUTTER than this. But at YEAST I found those papers.